And Death Shall Have No Dominion
by Avalon Medieval
Summary: Peggy and John's final moment.


"Though lovers be lost love shall not;

And death shall have no dominion."

Wanting him deeper inside her, Peggy arched her hips, meeting his thrusts, taking him as deep as he could penetrate. With each thrust, she relished the head of manhood nearly grinding into her womb, but still he was not deep enough. There would be never ENOUGH, even if he consumed her. There were no words to explain it, only that burning desire to fill herself with John Andre. And no matter how many times they coupled, the fire never diminished; it only grew more and more, and now it burned so intensely, that the pain was physically unbearable.

"Peggy…" he called her name as if he were drowning and she was the only air that could revitalize him.

And then finally; what she had been working so hard for….she threw her head back into the pillows, her mouth twisting in contortion, trying hard to express her rapture in a lusty wail, but somewhere among the delirious realm of ecstasy, she had lost her voice. Unable to cry out, frozen, unable to move, paralyzed with euphoria, she gushed, drenching Andre, but he didn't mind; in fact it exhilarated him, conjuring him to release own rapture. "Peg…gy," he whimpered, like an infatuated school boy, pumping as deep and as hard as he could until every ounce of his male nectar spilled into her.

Peggy closed her eyes as Andre wrapped his arms around her lust-ridden body and cuddled her into the warm cove of his strong body. Along with the crackle of the hearth that shimmered a mist of light upon their nude, sweat-glistened bodies, those inner flames were still burning; never to be sated.

When Peggy opened her eyes, gone was the warmth. She was cold; frozen. She found his eyes were glued upon hers, as they always were when they were together, but his gaze was not as she had expected; soft and blue, but instead of his usually naughty twinkle, there was a mixture of pain, sorrow, regret, and love.

And then it hit, almost suffocating her. To retain her sanity, for a brief moment she had allow her mind refuge. She had fled, fleeing the horrors of reality. She had drifted to a time of sheer bliss, but now the dream had ended and the nightmare made real. She was not entangled in the limbs of her lover in front of a soothing fire on a fluffy bed of feathers, but standing in the courtyard on the coldest winter day of her life, watching the execution of the man who held her heart. Her beloved John was about to die and there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

Their eyes locked. She saw a flicker of understanding within his own. He understood where she had just went. He understood because he often went there too when he could not be with her. Despite all the women he had known intimately, he had never loved before. Peggy had his heart; his whole heart.

Since Peggy had heard the rumors of the sleazy actress that warmed John's bed, she had been seething with jealousy, and now that she stood before him, she saw that there had never truly been another. His heart only bore room for her, as hers did for him. She had never loved before him, and never would again after him. John had gifted her enough love to last a lifetime.

As he spoke, she could not hear his words past her own inner agony lamenting. He felt her grief, her despair, and he reciprocated them. Life had been nothing but a cruel joke. During his young life, he had never felt love's tender embrace until sweet Peggy, not even from his own parents. Their time together had been painfully brief and always under guard, having to sneak about, like phantoms in the fog. During their depart, despite the war and her marriage to another man, Andre had held fast to hope, the same as Peggy, thinking one day they would find a way to be together, but now as he stood before her awaiting fate, that hope had died. There was no more hope, only anguish.

He felt as if he had failed her. Because of him, she was wed to a man she'd never be happy with, and now he was leaving her; abandoning to a bleak life of misery. At least his death would end his torture, but she would find no such comfort. She'd live on and suffer. Perhaps God, if there was one, would be kind and take her soon, and perhaps then they could finally be together – there was that damn hope again. And just as soon as it came alive again, Andre was pushed forward.

Her heart racing, barely able to stand, unable to breathe, Peggy watched in horror while the love of life dangled from a rope, kicking and flaying his arms and legs, struggling for air that he would never breathe again, like a doomed fish at the end of a fisherman's line. It took every ounce of strength not to run to him, free him, fight for him.

Tears fell down her pallid cheeks, blurring her vision, but not completely, although she wished it had. Instead, she was forced to endure the torture of seeing her lover suffer. She could hear him gasping; the sounds of his breaths pleading for life. Little did she know, although his face had been covered, he did not see blackness, but a radiant light; the light of the sun glimmering upon her Peggy's golden hair and flawless flesh.

Finally the light of Peggy grew blinding as he gave himself into it.

After what seemed to last for eternity, alas it was over, Peggy, in a trance, peered hollow at Andre's limp body. He was gone. He had left her for Heaven. She whispered, "There is a God, my love." One day, she would join him there, where they would share eternity's bed, beyond the clouds, but for now she must endure hell. She turned to find her way back to Benedict.

Notes:

Drabble_Gurl, I know you asked for this a long time ago, and I apologize that it has taken me so long to write, but I hope you enjoy it.


End file.
